EPISODE 2: BECAUSE SHE'S WORTH IT
Be free with the demerits – it’s your planet!
From “It’s Your Planet: The
Unofficial Guide to New Hymen First Edition AD 3015
As she reached her orgasm, the Nubian tourist wrapped her ebony legs around Tom’s face and crushed him into her shaven vulva.
His cock throbbed against his chastity cup and he had a blinding vision of the redhead’s spicy curls.
The Nubian girl didn’t taste the same, but still Tom found the strength to lick until her salty juices sloshed around his mouth and formed a fragrant puddle under his tongue.
She arched against the back of the booth, thrusting her insatiable groin into his face.
Tom struggled for breath. His arms strained against his cuffs, trying to get his hands from behind his back.
Feeling his energy fade, he forced his tongue into one last flicker.
And she unclasped him.
Tom’s efforts had been enough after all. He knelt back down on the rubbery floor, gasping, tongue and chastity cup throbbing in unison.
On her way out, the tourist’s clammy legs brushed against Tom’s shoulder. His cock gave a little spasm and he felt something hot and wet on his thighs.
Then, behind him, the door opened for yet another client.
I’m done for, he thought, picturing the public whipping.
But, with a beep, his wrists cuffs parted and his arms dropped to his sides. He clutched at the front of his chastity cup, but the flesh-like slit had long since closed. If he wanted a proper orgasm, he would have to find a woman to please.
Off duty at last.
Tom struggled to his feet. He staggered out of the licking booth and stepped aside so Mistress Amy, the club owner, could install a new bondsman.
He checked for signs of Tanya. Then, feeling safer, he scanned the club once more, this time looking for the redhead. She wasn’t at the bar, and he would have spotted her on the dance floor, unless she was one of the usual clump of girls writhing around Eduardo, Mistress Amy’s personal slave.
But somehow, Tom couldn’t imagine the redhead doing anything quite so brazen.
A middle-aged tourist jostled past him and hurried into the booth. Her head and shoulders appeared above the padded walls. Soon, her ropey neck muscles and facial convulsions made it easy to imagine the tongue lashing between her legs. She sobbed, loud enough to be heard over the dance music. Heads turned, but she didn’t seem to care.
Tom grimaced. A few days on-planet seemed to destroy most women’s sense of shame. It had taken Tanya less than two weeks to get hooked on the licking booths – and yet now she was stalking him, angry he had escaped her through voluntarily demoting himself from kept man to bondsman.
The woman arched backward, exposing the crinkly line under her chin where the makeup left off. Her bosom emerged over the top of the booth. Her tight top barely restrained her breasts, which quivered in time to the unseen licking.
Tom’s imprisoned cock twitched and he wished it were his tongue driving the woman to such pleasure. I’m going crazy, he thought. I have to get out of here, or at least get a date so I can come.
“Looking for somebody?”
“Who were you thinking it was?”
Tom found himself eye-to-eye with the tall redhead’s pert breasts. Her silvery mini-dress flowed over them like a waterfall, catching on her nipples to form glittering pleats.
His chastity cup seemed to constrict. Reflexively, he glanced down and saw that his hands were at the same level as her bare thighs.
He curled his fingers. He imagined running his hands over those lovely long legs, then felt a pang of fear. On New Hymen, leering was dangerous. He craned his neck to meet her green eyes. “Hi.”
She extended a freckled hand. “I’m Brigit,” she said in a fresh Celtic lilt that made him think of green hills and convent schools on backwater colony worlds.
Her fingers were soft and warm. He kissed them and said, “Tom.”
“Well, what scared you so?”
Tom fumbled for a convincing lie.
Brigit fixed him with wide green eyes. Suddenly he was very aware of standing before a beautiful girl, naked except for his chastity cup.
“My ex is sort of stalking me,” he admitted. “She’s already given me one demerit. Two more and it’s a public whipping…” He flushed. You should never tell a woman how few demerits you had - she might think it wouldn’t hurt to add another.
“But can’t you demote yourself out of a whipping?” She tilted her head. A cloud of red hair fell over her face. She flicked it over her shoulder. “At least that’s what the guidebook says.”
“I’ve already demoted once. I don’t…”
Just then the music halted in mid track. A shrill male
scream mingled with the orgasmic cries of the tourist.
One the dance floor, the gaggle of girls scattered, leaving Eduardo exposed. The tractor beam took hold, levitating the man until he hung over the dancers. He thrashed in agony as if unseen torturers flogged his naked skin. All the while semen spurted from the tiny opening in his blank groin.
“What’s happening to him?” asked Brigit.
“He’s demoted so many times, he’s ended up Damned.”
“Oh, I read about those in the guidebook.” Brigit’s eyes twinkled. “He’s automatically punished if he… ejaculates, isn’t he?” She grinned, dropping her jaw to flash her white teeth. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth, as if shocked at herself. “He must be a bit dim to end up like that.”
“Rumour has it that he was Claudia’s kept man. She only let him touch her when he demoted himself. When he got down to Damned, she sold him to Amy for a small fortune.”
“Claudia wouldn’t do that!” said the girl.
“This is New Hymen.”
“It is, isn’t it?” She stooped and kissed him on the mouth. Her tongue flickered on his lips.
Tom opened his mouth, drove his own tongue forward and tasted tangy margarita.
Brigit recoiled slightly. Her eyes widened. “I just realised all the places that’s been.”
“Practice makes perfect,” said Tom, putting his hand on her waist. Beneath the silver material, she was soft and yielding - unlike his chastity cup which had never felt harder or tighter.
“So,” she said, making him look up. “Is it true? What the guidebooks say about bondsmen being easy?”
Tom edged his hand onto her bare thigh. He stroked the freckled skin, then slid his fingers up under her skirt and over her hipbone. She still wasn’t wearing any underwear. “We’re highly motivated to please.”
“Let’s get a cab, then.”
“I need to get dressed.” Tom glanced at the changing room door and spotted Claudia stalking towards them. She wasn’t even looking at her tortured former lover. Everything about her – her eyes, her body language, the swing in her hip – was aimed at Brigit.
Tom frowned. He was damned if the predatory lesbian was going to get Brigit first. “But I’ll be OK between the front door and the cab I guess.”
“Let’s go then!” The redhead waved at Claudia and took his hand.
Still naked except for his chastity cup, Tom let Brigit lead him out of the club. His skin puckered in the cool night air. “How am I going to get back without any clothes?”
She just giggled.
* * *Tom hardly noticed as the cab hurtled up into New Hymen’s night sky.
Brigit sat opposite him, crammed into the seat with her knees drawn up between them like a stick insect. The position turned her dress into silvery funnel, sucking his gaze between her freckled thighs to fix on her rusty bush.
Perhaps she’ll buy me, he thought. No more parade of vulvas. Just long hours lapping between her endless legs.
Unless she was just a tourist. Was she? She didn’t fit any of the patterns – not brazen enough to be off a cruise ship, not confident enough to be a citizen.
Brigit snapped her legs shut. She leaned forwards and stroked Tom’s thigh. “I’ve never really touched a man before.”
Her contact sent an electric tingle straight to Tom’s chastity cup. “Exactly where are you from?” he asked.
With her other hand, she brushed her signet ring. “Anywhere I want,” she said. “It’s my planet, after all.”
A chill of fear wrapped around Tom’s spine. She might be sweet and fresh, but thanks to New Hymen’s laws, he was almost totally in her power.
Brigit smiled sweetly, as if she hadn’t just threatened to bring him within a demerit of a whipping. “Put your feet up, I want to examine you.”
Was this a good sign? Perhaps she was interested in more than a one night stand. Cheeks burning with humiliation, Tom made himself put his feet on her seat, bracketing her hips. She parted his knees, spreading his legs as if for a gynaecological examination.
Brigit clenched her long fingers and rapped his chastity cup. “It’s fleshy, almost!” She probed the tiny slit in its base, then explored the angle where the nanothreads bonded the black cup to his flesh. “What did you have before you demoted?”
“I was a kept man,” said Tom, hearing his voice shake. “It was like this except.” He felt a wave of heat.
“Tell me!” Brigit reddened and her teeth flashed white from between crimson lips. “It’s embarrassing, isn’t it? You’re blushing all over!”
Tom lowered his gaze and stared at Brigit’s delicately freckled knees. They’d drifted open again, just enough so that he could see between them and into the darkness beneath her silvery dress.
He forced himself to look up at her face. “The opening was bigger.”
“I thought there were no free cocks on New Hymen.” Again she put a hand over her mouth.
“The whole wasn't that big,” said Tom.
The taxi started its descent. Tom glanced out the window, but the only lights were a long way off.
“Just enough so you can touch the tip of…”
Brigit gasped. “You spent all day playing with yourself! That’s why she dumped you!”
Tom felt his head throb. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to forget about the rows and tearful arguments. “I wasn’t dumped. It was all a mistake, but Tanya wouldn’t sell me on. I demoted myself.” He glanced up at her, not really caring if she gave him a demerit.
But Brigit’s face had softened. “Did you love her?”
“I followed her to New Hymen to be her kept man.”
“And now she hates me.”
* * *The taxi halted at a third floor balcony. The doors were already open to let in the warm night air.
Inside, two pyjama-clad girls lay draped on the sofa, eating pizza and watching a period drama on the Tri-D – the one where the earthy hero and frosty heroine nurse a crippled star tramp back to Earth orbit. They had just got to the famous sex scene in the engine room.
A standard year ago, Tom couldn’t have dragged his eyes away from the holographic lovers in the middle of the floor. Now he just glanced around the rest of the room, saw the text books and the computer pads and thought, Students. There was no way Brigit could afford to buy him.
Brigit said, “Tri-D off.”
The hologram vanished. The nearest girl looked up and gasped. Her baby-blue eyes widened. Her cheeks coloured. The crimson spread up to the roots of her blonde hair. Her gaze flickered up and down Tom’s naked body, then fixed on the blank cup between his legs.
Tom fought the urge to put a hand over his shamefully neutered groin.
The second girl’s big round face furrowed into a frown. She’d be pretty, thought Tom, if only she’d not tied her black hair back so tightly. “Whatever is this?” She had Brigit’s Celtic accent, but her voice was deeper.
“It’s a naked man, Deirdre," said Brigit. "I’m bored of talking about It and watching racy films. There’s no point in studying on New Hymen if we don’t have fun with the local lads.”
“Well, it’s not like we can lose our cherries,” squeaked the tiny blonde, then giggled and blushed.
“Mary!” Deirdre got to her feet and put her hands on her wide hips. “We can’t to afford waste our scholarship money on gigolos.”
“He’s free,” said Brigit. “He needs me to get him home, so he’ll do just what I tell him.” She turned to Tom. “Won’t you?”
They had chatted, flirted even. But, when it came down to it, Tom was utterly in Brigit’s power.
This was nothing like licking booth.
This was personal.
Tom’s penis swelled against his chastity cup so fast that he buckled as if punched in the stomach.
“Oh yes,” he said. “Anything.”
(To be continued...)
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